AUTUMN TREES AND MUSIC

Well. I did it ! I picked Saffron up and took her to school and later I went to her piano recital and brought her home. I am VERY happy. This is another of those things which I thought I might never be able to do again. I have also done half a year without being hospitalised. I was able to walk up with her all the way to her classroom. Good stuff, eh?

Kaybee looked rested with not having to go out at all today. And the Saf and I went to the Prov and had potato scallops. It was a happy time for me.

I also have a curry brought to me by Janine Howe who fixed my computer. She brought 2 fruit crumbles as well. Delicious.

SO – ANOTHER DAY -GONE WELL.

My mind is peaceful and I feel less harassed despite planning going on in my head.

IZZY FOREAL RAN INTO BONGIL BONGIL FOREST ON 21 JUNE 2014 AND WAY UP ON THE DIRT ROADS, PAST THE CROSSROADS AND NEAR THE TOP OF THE HILL, HIS HEART STOPPED BEATING AND HE NEVER CAME HOME. WE GAVE HIM HIS ONE LAST BIG GIG AT RALEIGH RUMBLINGS AND NOW HIS SPIRIT IS ON THE LOOSE. LET ‘ER RIP, IZ.

FROM VAN BADHAM Van Badham I wrote the following for his life companion, Lynne: Lynne, amidst heartbreak, be consoled that the man who was your beloved companion was no ordinary man. He was a leader, a fighter, a guru, a comrade, a friend. He was a man of independent thought and resolute moral principle. He was an artist, a maker and creator and a bard in the truest sense. Meeting Izzy as an 18 year old was the encounter that inspired the directions I took in my own life – artistic and political. He proved to me in his example that those who are as selfless as they are motivated have the power to open minds and effect change. He had the rare quality of the true champion – to understand the indivisibility of leadership and teamwork. He was good. He was kind. He shared what he learned with uninhibited generosity, he told a cracking story and he was always prepared to take the piss out of himself. He spoke truth to power. And he loved you, truly. He leaves love and good example behind him as he embarks on his next journey, and so he endures. I am thinking of how he used to treat his terrible migraines by trapping his head in a wire hanger. And it makes me think what I should have realised before hearing this today: that he appeared in my life as some kind of sage, or wizard – a Gandalf or Merlin – grey-bearded, wise to the world, stepping out from the edge of a grey forest at a crossroads, and, smiling, nudging me gently towards my true way.

The hermit is an important figure at the outset of the hero’s journey, represented in folklore and mythology as the wise encouraging guide, the dispenser of protection, counsel, and well-being. The hermit may be presented as the solitary wise one dwelling in a forest or cave, that is, the source of strength in the receded consciousness that represents stability and a reservoir of compassion and wisdom, stern but reassuring. Thus, as the adventure begins,

Whether dream or myth, in these adventures there is an atmosphere of irresistible fascination about the figure that appears suddenly as a guide, marking a new period, a new stage, in the biography. …The first encounter of the hero-journey is with a protective figure (often a little old crone or old man) who provides the adventurer with amulets against the dragon forces he is about to pass …

The crone or fairy godmother in European fairy tales, the Virgin in Christianity, the African Mother of the Gods, the Native American Spider Woman, the Eastern Cosmic Mother, Dante’s Beatrice, Goethe’s Gretchen -— all manifest supernatural guidance, especially representative of the peace of Paradise and the cosmic womb. Masculine figures of aid and guidance are usually “some little fellow of the wood, some wizard, hermit, shepherd, or smith.” In higher mythologies, the masculine guide is the teacher, and especially the ferryman, such as Hermes or Thoth. [An accessible example, not mentioned by Campbell, is the character of the ferryman in Hesse’s novel Siddhartha.]